


inopinatus coniunctio

by magichistorian



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Howl's Moving Castle Fusion, M/M, Magic, Romance, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magichistorian/pseuds/magichistorian
Summary: Iwaizumi is a poor woodcutter who, due to unfortunate circumstances, has become cursed by a powerful witch. Despite his distaste for the guy, Iwaizumi realizes his only chance is with the great Wizard Oikawa.Will he break free of his curse, or will be stuck in the wizard's bizarre world forever?(Howl's Moving Castle AU)





	1. Chapter 1

As the eldest child of a working family, Iwaizumi Hajime knew he was never going to be destined for greatness. In a world where people were kings and queens, or starving peasants, looks and skills and riches were everything. And everyone knew that the youngest children would be the most successful. And he was alright with that. He had never been the most aspirational; he had never spent every waking moment hoping for some wild adventure across the world, or the hand in marriage of a gorgeous princess from a foreign kingdom.

He had many an argument with his brother as a small child, both attempting to one-up each other in their dreams for a future. (Issei was going to have a pile of gold taller than a house and a gorgeous wife? Well, Hajime’s pile of gold was the size of two houses. And he had two wives. And a dragon. So there. It would never end.)

But as he aged past a child into a young man he discovered, to his youthful horror, he was really good at being a woodcutter. He had the physique, the stamina, the mindset, the everything of a perfect woodcutter. He was the eldest, and his father was only able to work for so long; thus his fate was sealed. And that was fine. 

He was smart, but not enough so to become a teacher. He couldn’t sew, he couldn’t sing (well enough to get a job, at least. He thought he sounded fine), and he couldn’t leave his father to join the army. So he finished school, and before long, took over the business. 

(He had spent, however, a handful of late nights working at the possibility of something more in his life. Not for long; he never let his thoughts wander too much.)

So when his younger brother -not by much, but younger was younger- decided he was going to open a bakery and become rich, he went along with it. He wasn’t even that surprised. His brother far preferred spending time cooking meals or sitting around over cutting wood like he was supposed to. He made damn good pies too. 

So he left to take his place in the world, leaving only Hajime, and his father. And that was okay. 

He was bitter for a few days, but he got distracted by the routine of his daily life pretty fast. 

Chop down trees. Sometimes he cut them into firewood. Sometimes he left them as logs. Sometimes he made neat panels. In the afternoon, he would load his cart, hitch up their sturdy old horse, and make the ride into town to drop off his load to the shop. Perhaps ‘shop’ was an exaggeration. It was a stall at the end of a street with a small tent, a table, a chair, and a lot of wood. His father would sit there, selling the wood at a reasonable price. It wasn’t much, but they were just fine. A little dull, but just fine. 

\--

Hajime’s favorite days were the days the shop was stocked enough that he didn’t need to work, and could relax or go into town. 

On one of those particular days, Hajime was heading into town to stop by and visit his brother. Looking back, he realized he had not seen him in months. The war had gotten people scared, and many chose to stock up on wood in particular. 

But apparently a recent string of military successes had increased the wealth of the country (or so he heard), so people weren’t buying as much. 

He was far from invested in the happenings of his country’s royalty and military, but he was not completely out of it. He had heard from loud-voiced announcers at the market and gossiping wives by the shop plenty of stories. Apparently the price of a nearby kingdom went missing recently, and due to his assumed location, the blame was shifted to his country. Unfortunately, nobody had any sort of a clue as to where said prince was. Was he really kidnapped? Or simply a runaway? He could even be dead. But the other country had refused to back down until he was returned, so the war raged on with no end in sight. Most of the countrymen were more than pleased enough to fight, so there was no apparent rush to end it anyway. Sometimes, Hajime felt like he was the only one to think the war was anything other than good. 

And to his great irritation, the one day he decided to take off happened to also be the day after a significant success for the country’s army, and what seemed to be the whole entire town was celebrating. The wide streets, usually occupied by the occasional passer-by, were stuffed with parading people, each wearing their most colorful outfits. Flags were hung from every surface. Every restaurant was brimming with customers; the waiters hardly keeping up. The noise from warplanes flying above, stocked with a banner rather than bombs, clashed with the cheering and chatter that only increased in volume as the crowd grew louder. 

Most people would be parading as well, just as raucous as everyone else. But Iwaizumi was not most people. He wanted to see his brother, and he wanted to go home. Where it was quiet. 

As he walked through the crowd to a more quiet route, he heard a gaggle of women chattering amiably about the Great Wizard and his moving castle. 

Glancing over to where they were pointing, he could indeed see the castle. It was usually farther away, out of sight or barely visible. But today it was clearly in sight, perched atop the crest of the hill right outside town. 

Maybe he was joining in on the celebration in his own way. Iwaizumi didn't care. In all honesty, he was quite dubious about that wizard. Endless stories recounted his handsome face, his habit of eating the hearts of beautiful women, and any other thing the gossip mongers of the town could imagine up. 

Maybe he wasn't even a wizard. Though how would that explain the castle? Anybody with eyes could tell it moved. He could recall memories from before he even knew how to chop wood of that castle. Even if nobody actually  _ saw  _ it move, there was no denying it could. 

As he thought about the wizard, Iwaizumi began to wonder if maybe the hearts thing was a lie. Maybe he liked looking at flowers and privacy. He was no expert on how wizards spend other\eir afternoons. 

Or maybe it was all true. Either way, he had no need for any of that sort of drama. No, he just wanted to see his brother and pick up a few pastries in the process. 

Finally finding an open alleyway through which he could have some actual personal space, Iwaizumi ducked in. He sighed a breath of relief and let himself walk a little bit slower. 

“Hey, big guy!” A loud voice called. Oh great. More trouble. 

“What do you want?” He called back, hoping his annoyed tone would clue the person in that he wasn’t interested. It didn’t work. 

“C’mere!” The voice called, closer. After a few seconds, the voice must have noticed Iwaizumi had no intention of listening and walked out in front of him. The voice turned out to be two men. Their uniforms meant they were military, probably returning home for a time to celebrate. One was taller than him, the other, maybe not. But both were far leaner than he was. An easy fight. (They didn’t seem to think so.)

When he continued to ignore them, planning to walk past without making so much as a bit of eye contact, one shoved him. Caught off guard, he stumbled but didn’t fall. They were wanting a fight? They would get a fight. Iwaizumi started clenching a fist, choosing who to punch first, when a light hand on his shoulder brought him pause. Who else was here? 

“There you are!” A new voice exclaimed. Iwaizumi looked at the new person. 

He was tall and lean, easily pulling off that slender look that women had started to squeal over without looking fragile or unhealthy. He had fluffy, pale hair. His clothes were strange, as well. His tight black pants and cream tunic were normal enough, but he was wearing a brightly patterned coat over his shoulders that didn’t look like anything he had seen a sane person wear before. He was very attractive. But Iwaizumi immediately pushed that thought away. He looked like some rich ass anyway. No sane working-class man would dress like that, and looking closely, the glint of jewelry on his fingers confirmed it. 

“I was looking everywhere for you!” He exclaimed like he knew Iwaizumi. “Sorry boys, but we are in a big hurry. Please excuse us.” 

He lifted the hand that wasn’t still rested on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and pointed his finger at the two men. He then flicked it to the side, and they both moved out of the way, far too stiffly and quickly for it to be of their own doing. 

The man then started walking again, Iwaizumi walking along because he was not entirely sure what else to do. 

"What the-" He started, somewhere between very annoyed and very confused. Who was this strange handsome man pretending to know him? 

"Just follow me," He only said, accompanied by a wink.

Who did he think he was? 

He had half a mind to turn around right then and walk away from this freak but stopped when he whispered, “Stay quiet. They’re after me. And now us. But don’t worry.”

Iwaizumi tried looking back to see who was following them, but the man’s arm around his shoulder kept him still. They kept walking, brisk and ostensibly casual. 

Behind him, Iwaizumi heard a strange noise he couldn’t really identify. It was a sound like walking sludge, an animated pile of oozing solid enough to stay together as it splattered and writhed. It was the sound of something evil, something foul and disgusting. 

Unfortunately, before long, they had become cornered. The alley they had been walking through was about to end, a mere few steps from their feet. Before he could even think of a way to run, the man took his hand from Iwaizumi’s shoulder and held him close by his waist instead. 

He whispered a quick “Don't panic,” and took off. Into the sky. Iwaizumi tried to heed his words, but he was really not expecting to go flying this early. Or at all, really. They rose above the brick buildings and returned to a calm walking pace, only this time in the sky. Their feet moved as if they were walking on anything remotely solid, yet remained aloft. They moved across the sky and over the crowd (it was a decent form of travel, he had to admit). Before he could notice where they were going, he found himself on the upstairs balcony of his brother’s bakery. How did he know..?

“Bye!” The man called to him, standing atop the railing. “Don’t get into any more fights, okay?” 

He waved and jumped off. When Iwaizumi peered over the rail, he was nowhere to be seen. 

Somewhere downstairs an employee pushed through the ever-present crowds to inform Issei that his brother had arrived somehow, and was waiting on the upstairs balcony. 

Somewhere down the stairs, Iwaizumi and Issei met in a tight hug. They hadn’t seen each other in several weeks, and it was nice to see something as familiar as his brother after such a disorienting morning.

They made their way to the storage room, idly chatting as they went. Issei pulled out two boxes, and they sat down. 

Once they were sitting, Issei brought up the topic that had been clearly his main goal. “Sooooo, what’s up with your dramatic entrance? Watari said you...flew down from the sky? Give me the news!”

“So that really did happen, huh?” Iwaizumi sighed. “To be honest, I really couldn’t tell you myself. I was walking over here, going through the alley to avoid the crowd when two soldier boys showed up, trying to pick a fight. I ignored them until they started getting antsy. But before I could do anything, this strange man appeared and practically whisked me away! And then...then...we were actually flying! In the air!”

Iwaizumi buried his face in the hands. “Who the hell was he?” He groaned, his voice muffled. 

“The wizard Oikawa, clearly!” A new voice exclaimed. 

They both whipped around, Iwaizumi in confusion, and Issei in excitement. 

“Hiro!” He exclaimed, grinning at the face who was peering at them from a gap in stacked boxes. 

The man came around the stack, smiling at Iwaizumi. 

“Oh yeah!” Issei said. “Iwaizumi, this is my partner, Takahiro Hanamakki. Takahiro, this is my brother Iwaizumi Hajime.”

They shook hands politely. 

“Wait. Partners?”

The two winked in unison and twined their hands together dramatically. “You got us!” Makki exclaimed. 

Issei leaned over and whispered, “He’s a witch.” 

“Really?” He asked, glancing at the man and his strange pink hair. “I thought witches were evil.”

“Some of them. Not this one, unless you count stealing my merchandise to eat.” Makki only giggled, not looking one bit sorry. 

It was a strange relationship for sure. But his brother was strange as well, so he couldn't complain much. They seemed to be happy, anyway. 

“So, let's go back to the part where you were literally dropped off here by the wizard Oikawa, okay? Cause, what?” Issei said. 

“Are you sure it was him?” Iwaizumi asked. He didn't know if knowing that man’s identity makes it better or worse. 

“Oh absolutely. I guess he took a liking to you. I’m not surprised. You're a good looking man. Really muscular, you know? 

“Yeah, except he likes girls. Pretty girls.”

“Aww, don't be sad Iwaizumi! You’re still beautiful.” 

“Yeah, not what I meant.”

“Well,” Issei’s tone turned more serious. “Maybe this is a sign. You are always working so hard. Maybe you could start living a little. Your world is so small. It’s like you’re trapped in the little bubble of your home and your work that won't let anything else in.”

...Was his brother right? Iwaziumi had never set aside much time for himself. But what was the point of anything else? He was satisfied. 

But...was he happy?

  
  


With those new thoughts swirling around in his head, Iwaizumi headed back to their stall to clean up and head back home. But as he was about to leave, he heard the telltale click of shoe heels making their way toward him. 

Without looking he said, “Apologies, but we’re closed. You can come back to-”

“Well, well.” A low voice spoke. “So it's you.”

Iwaizumi turned around sharply. Before him stood a man dressed all in dark clothes. He had unruly black hair that spiked up in strange ways and a smile that was almost cat-like. He was tall, and his feet hovered several inches off the ground, making him even more imposing and tall. His powerful aura seemed to fill the whole space, looming sharply over Iwaizumi’s insignificant form. Instantly, he knew. 

This was the Witch of the Waste. A rumored spellcaster that nobody should dare to cross. And there he was, right in front of him. He tried shrinking back, but it was useless. His back smacked into his cart. There was nowhere to go. 

“Please leave!” He said as firmly. Incredibly, his voice didn’t shake. He could swear the flickering shadows that danced and warped were watching him. 

“Ooh~ he’s feisty. I applaud your choice, Oikawa. But I cannot have him in my way, so my dearest apologies.” 

Who was he talking to?

“Sir, you must be making a mistake. I am not associated with anybody by the name of Oikawa. I am but woodcutter. If you do not need wood, then there is nothing I can do for you.” 

The man smiled his Cheshire grin again and seemed to dissolve into mist. Iwaziumi was almost ready to think he was gone, until the mist picked up, violently blowing through him like a cruel wind and away into the night. 

A few seconds passed. 

He was alive? 

The witch must have failed, he decided. He refused to consider another possibility. Still shaken, he took up his cart and began the trip home. It was already reaching darkness, but the trip was short enough that he was sure he would get home in time. 

It was dark enough, in fact, that he didn’t see his strong hands become wrinkled and pale. As he walked he could swear he felt a little weaker than usual, his back in a bit more pain than he could remember. But he wrote it off as simply the side effects of his long day.

Speaking of a long day, he considered the wild events of the day as he walked. Part of him was sure it had all been some wild hallucinations. But the way it had felt to grace the rooftops was far too real to write off. 

And what his brother said… He was probably right. Iwaizumi was living an orderly shell of a life. But how could he change? He was good at what he did and his father needed him. Having fun could only ever be a secondary job. And that was just fine. 

Wasn’t it? 

Before he knew it, he was home. His father must have been asleep already, but he left the lights on. 

Iwaizumi put away the cart and went inside. He passed the mirror hanging on the wall but froze and doubled back. 

Oh hell no.

  
  


He had not been as lucky as he thought.

He brought before unnoticed wrinkled hands to his equally wrinkled face, attempting to convince himself the reflection was a lie. But it was not. 

He groaned. He was not going to deal with any of this. He needed sleep. He would panic in the morning. 

As calmly as possible, he made his way to his room and went to bed. 

\-----

The very first thing that Iwaizumi noticed as he awoke was ann aching pain in his back. He kept his eyes closed a little bit longer, absentmindedly assuming that he had just slept weird. But after a few more moments he started feeling a bit off. Even a bad night of sleep would leave him  _ this  _ sore. His back, neck, and even his arms had a deep-rooted discomfort he couldn't ignore. And the light permeating his eyelids was brighter than he was used to. 

The next thing he noticed after he finally forced his eyes open was how incredibly bright it really was outside for how early he always woke up. He always got up early enough for the sun to just barely peek over the horizon. But this was the light from far later in the morning. A few moments later, the memory of the previous night returned and he nearly fell out of his bed in his panic. The only thing stopping him was the pain forcing his limbs to still.

Peering at his hands, he could tell nothing had changed overnight. They were just as wrinkled and gnarled as they were the night before. The Witch of the Waste really had cursed him. But why? What had he ever done? 

Then, one of the things he said came back to mind. He had said the name  _ Oikawa _ . It was that damn wizard’s fault! Oh, he was going to  _ get  _ it. And then he was going to lift this damn curse. 

He was just about to jump out of bed and wander the vast hills beyond the small town until he forced the fix to his curse out of him when a knock came at his door. 

“Hajime?” It was his father’s voice! He must have noticed he was still asleep when there was no wood chopped. “I haven't seen you yet this morning. Are you okay?”

Shit. Shit. uh….

“Sorry dad,” He croaked, sounding very old. “I’m sick. Really sick. You can’t come in, or you’ll get it too.”

His dad chuckled. “Yeah, I can tell. You sound like me in twenty years!“

Yeah. he was. 

“Well, take the day off. Feel better, son.”

“I will.”

Once he knew his father had left, he got dressed. It was a lot harder than usual. His hands didn’t like buttons much at all. Once he was dressed, he noticed that his clothes much better suited a man his age than the young person he used to be. 

He then slowly made his way down the stairs, watching to be sure his father wasn’t about to see him. He gathered some bread and cheese into a sack and set out. 

As he made his way through town, he noticed with some surprise how much nicer people treated him. He was either ignored or offered a polite nod. Soon enough he reached the last few buildings and made his way onto the dusty road leaving town. 

He wandered along the road until he found a kind old farmer willing to take him up the mountain. He repeatedly asked him if he really wanted to go so far from home at his age, but each time Iwaizumi reassured him that he knew what he was doing. 

Eventually, the man said he had gone as far as he could and Iwaizumi thanked him and left. 

The hills were somewhat steep, but despite his old age, he didn’t have too much trouble making his way up. His legs ached worse than they ever had before, but on the upside, he still had all his teeth. Apparently old Iwaizumi kept up good oral hygiene habits. Despite his sudden aging, his musculature had not failed him. A walking cane  _ would _ be nice though. 

As if the universe had heard his unspoken wish, the next bush he passed had a conveniently sized stick poking right out of it. He tugged at it, but it refused to budge. He pulled again, to no avail. Planting his feet, he put all of his strength into freeing it. He refused to give in after he started. 

It finally gave in, but instead of the walking stick he was hoping for, what burst forth from the bush was a tall  _ scarecrow.  _ Its smiling face was on a turnip. He  _ hated  _ turnips. When it saw him, it bounced up and down. Possibly out of gratitude? 

“Uh. You're welcome. I guess.”

He began walking past it, but he barely took five steps before he couldn’t ignore the loud springing noise of its incessant bouncing. 

“You're free. You can go. You don't need to follow me. I don't want you to follow me.”

It either couldn't understand him or didn't care. Great. That was worse than any of the back pain he was experiencing. But he really didn't think he was going to be able to shake it. 

Eventually, he could not listen to that stick anymore and gave in, sitting down on a rock, perfectly flat, as if it were made for him. He pulled out his sack and carefully sliced some bread and cheese. As he ate, he gazed down on his town. He had always seen his life as something dull at best, a place that he could make his way through but never find real happiness in. But in his old age, he gained some perspective. He almost missed his old, non-cursed life. 

He continued to make his way across the hills, absentmindedly noting how beautiful the town looked from his distance. Just as he was starting to worry he was wasting his time, a loud, screeching groan interrupted the peaceful ambiance. A little while longer, the sound was accompanied by its source: an incredibly large, utterly impossible structure. 

It was massive; easily as tall as his house stacked three times. The whole thing was made of metal, in a structure that looked flimsy but remained intact. Every few creaking steps- yes steps, the thing was actually  _ walking-  _ a huge cloud of steam shot out from the opening on the front that almost looked like a mouth. 

Its odd design was a strange sight, to say the least, but something in him had the feeling that it belonged there. Against the flowing grass and climbing peaks it stuck out like a sore thumb, but nothing about it felt wrong. 

And Iwaizumi knew that was absolutely where the elusive wizard lived. 

With a surge of energy that he was surprised to know he still had, he dashed to the small doorway at the base of it. The castle was beginning to move again and this was his last chance to catch it. If he waited, it would vanish into the mist as if it were never there at all. 

Stumbling over rocks as he went, he got a grip on the metal rail. A few seconds more and he managed to get his feet on the tiny doorstep. 

Looking back he saw the scarecrow, bouncing along like ever. At the realization he was leaving it behind, he offered it a guilt wave before turning back and slowly opening the door. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting inside. Maybe a huge lavish palace that only appears to the outside eye to be smaller and made of metal? Even if it were really the size it seemed, that man had an air of pretension, like he wouldn’t allow himself to live in a world that wasn't as beautiful as he was. 

But he was absolutely NOT expecting a shabby wooden interior that looked like something the poor man down the road might live in. It was small, the size of a room inside of that castle should be. Great Wizard, huh? More like Great Slob. 

Various items lay scattered across any open surface in the room. Some Iwaizumi could identify. Many, he could not. And the only light was that of a small flame in the hearth, clinging onto a small, charred log. 

Suddenly realizing how cold he had become during his trip up the mountains, Iwaizumi quickly made his way to the hearth, plopping two new logs atop the fire and collapsing in the chair that was so conveniently placed right before the fire. 

He was cozying up enough that he expected he could fall asleep when a voice he did not expect piped up. 

“Who the  _ hell  _ are you, and why are you here?”

Iwaizumi searched around for the sound, but to no avail. It was not until the sound of someone clearing their throat without really having a throat that he looked at the fireplace.

He jumped up so fast the chair almost fell over. The fire has  _ eyes.  _ The fire could  _ talk. _

“How do you talk? Are you a magical wizard fire?” Iwaizumi asked. 

That just made the fire laugh. “I am a fire demon. That is why I can talk.”

“Oh.” That made enough sense. 

“And what are you doing here? This isn't exactly a place you stumble upon. And you don't seem the type to intentionally show up either. You're far older, smarter, and male-r than anybody in the past.”

He shouldn't have been surprised at the last bit. Young women were terrifying! Any man knew nothing was scarier than a woman set on true love. If she really wanted it, she would get it.

“Well, I was c-” He cut off. Not intentionally. He opened his mouth, but as soon as he tried to continue his sentence his mouth choked up again. It was like his vocal cords were being held tight in an icy grip. He tried again, but any mention of his ailment 

“I see,” the fire said. “You’ve been cursed I see. Let me guess. You're not really that old. And when you try to tell people who don't already know that you’ve been cursed, you are silenced.”

“Yes exactly!” The fire demon seemed to know a lot about curses. More than him at the very least. Maybe he knew how to deal with it? Maybe his endless like up the damned mountain wasn’t entirely in vain. “Do you think...you could remove it? I came all this way to see if the wizard would cure my curse -since it's his own damn fault anyway- but if you’ll do it then that is even better. It seems like you’re smarter than him.”

“Well, I am not stupid enough to deny that.” He flickered around, and the effect made him seem like he was smirking. “But I can’t just lift your curse without getting anything out of it.”

Of course. Nobody does anything out of the kindness in their hearts anymore, do they? 

“What do you want? I am a poor woodcutter. And now I’m old.” If the fire asked for gems or some other outlandish request like it, he would blow a gasket. What on earth would a fire do with money anyway? 

“Oh not much. You see, I’m under a curse as well.” When he said that, his voice lowered as if he were trying to keep it a secret from peeping eyes all around. 

“You are? Is that why you’re a fire?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“No. I have always been my lovely sparky self. No, my curse is what’s trapping me here! With that lousy wizard. And I can’t break it myself. So, let’s make a deal. YOU will break my curse, and then I will break yours. Do we have a deal?”

Deals with demons? That was a really terrible idea. Really bad. Nobody ever makes a deal with a demon without regretting it. Or dying. No way. 

“Sure. It’s a deal.”

“Lovely!” Luckily, the fire did not make them shake hands. 

Moments later the face in the flames vanished from sight. As it did, the energy from the encounter faded and Iwaizumi was left even more exhausted than he was before. The chair was not the most comfortable place to sleep, but he did not really have any other choice, so he settled down and was asleep in seconds. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2!!! 
> 
> I'm funny, I promise

The first thing Iwaizumi noticed as he woke was an aggressive knocking at the door. It was very loud, and it sounded like it was urgent. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing for it to leave so he could keep sleeping, but there was no sign of it stopping and there was no way he could go back to sleep with all the knocking. Who needed him this early? But right before he finally gave in and got up, the knocking was interrupted by the loud thumping sound of somebody running downstairs. 

He immediately pretended to be asleep again, leaning back until his neck ached and faked what was his best attempt at snoring. He could acknowledge he had essentially broken into somebody's house later. The feet reached the bottom of the steps and stopped. Whoever it was had clearly noticed him sleeping there. 

But apparently the knocking was more important. The person made their way past him and Iwaizumi peeked one eye open to watch. The person was a young man, somewhere in his teens. He was wearing a cloak, and when he pulled the hood over his head, a large beard burst forth, making him seem much older! ‘How weird,’ Iwaziumi thought. ‘I guess this is Wizard Magic for you.’

He heard a strange clicking noise, then the sound of the door opening. He couldn’t make out all of the words, but it was the voice of a young girl asking for something. Spells? For somebody? Where did the girl come from? He leaned back, nearly tipping the chair over. Where he expected the hills and grass he crossed the previous night, there were the bustling streets of an unfamiliar city. 

From his sliver of a view, he saw numerous people appearing and vanishing from the gap between the doorway and the door. He could see glimpses of shops across the road as well, the titles all cut off too much to read. All of the buildings were lined with flags, which reminded him of his hometown a little bit. But wherever they were, it was not his home. 

As he stared, the boy came back into the castle. He tried to move back to looking asleep, but only managed to knock the chair over. The boy barely noticed him, even with his pained groaning.

From the cluttered table in the back, the boy produced a strange pouch. He then delivered it to the girl with instructions or something and closed the door. When he did, the click came again and this time Iwaziumi noticed it came from the strange colored dial above the door. Where it had been on blue, it was now on red. 

The boy slid off the hood and walked over to Iwaizumi, who had made his way back to his feet by then. He was taller than Iwaizumi, but he was sure he had lost a few inches at least in his sudden aging. He had the face of somebody who really did not care about much of anything. He sure didn’t seem particularly upset or shocked about Iwaizumi’s presence, only slightly curious. 

“Yahaba, who the hell is this old guy?” He asked. Iwaizumi almost yelled at him to say he was not old but remembered he was, in fact, an old man, at least to anybody who saw him. 

“I don't know, honestly,” The fire responds. “He just...showed up last night.” Yahaba must be the fire’s name. 

“Well, why didn't you burn him? Or wake me up or something? What if he was a witch?” 

Iwaizumi? A witch? That’s a good joke.

“He’s not. Plus he looks tough. He might be old but he has a lot of muscles, Kunimi!” Yahaba had a lot to whine about, considering he was a literal talking fire. 

The boy, Kunimi, did not seem pleased with that explanation. “Aren’t you literally fire? What the hell would muscles do to you? He’d only be hurting himself.”

“They’re too tough. Burning up muscle is a lot of work, and it doesn’t even taste that good.” The fire said defensively. “Plus if he was going to murder you you would already be dead.”

Kunimi only rolled his eyes. He walked to the counter by the table and retrieved an old loaf of bread. When Iwaizumi walked over there, he saw a basket with bacon and eggs that the boy had completely bypassed. 

“We should make bacon, don't you think?” Iwaizumi offered. “Bread isn’t going to help you get stronger.”

Wow. saying that definitely made him sound old. 

“We can’t,” Kunimi said. “Yahaba only lets Oikawa cook on him. There’s no way he’d let you.” 

Uh-uh. Nope. He got turned old, had to walk all the way up a mountain to spend a night in a pigsty of a castle and he wasn’t even getting bacon? Just because the  _ fire wouldn’t let it?  _ That was not going to happen. 

“We’ll see.” He pulls up his sleeves, grabs the bacon and the pan laying on the table (why the hell was a frying pan on the table, these slobs) and makes his way to the fireplace. 

Yahaba instantly retaliated. “Hey, stop! He’s right, you now! I don't let any old man just  _ use  _ me like that-” Iwazimi plops the pan on him, muffling his voice. He continued pushing back in an attempt to dislodge the pan but Iwaizumi didn’t give in. He finally collapsed into a perfect simmer, his angry complaining only a muffled grumbling. Behind him, Kunimi gazed on in awe. 

Iwaizumi laid out three large pieces of bacon and begins cooking. After a minute he cracks a couple of eggs in as well and flips them with a spatula he found. 

After cracking in the eggs, he tossed the shells in the fire’s face. 

“I don't want these,” Yahaba immediately complained, consuming them anyway. Iwaizumi tossed two more at him. 

“I don’t want these!” he repeated. Iwaizumi didn’t believe him at that time either. 

As the happy scent of frying bacon filled the otherwise ashy-smelling castle, the door clicked to the black color on the dial and swung open. From it entered the Wizard Oikawa, looking disheveled and tired. Iwaizumi tried to ignore him and keep cooking, but can’t help but glance over as he made his way in and up the stairs. When he entered the room, he froze and stared at Iwaizumi. 

“Who is this?” He asked the room. “Shige-chan? You’re letting  _ somebody else _ cook on you?”

He sounded extremely offended at the thought. He seemed to be trying to hide it, but he looked surprised too. 

"No! He made me, and I would appreciate if you would make him stop." Yahaba said, sounding equally offended. 

Oikawa’s face suddenly brightened into his idiotic smile. "But now I don't have to cook! Plus you hate when I cook on you." 

Wow. The wizard was lazy too. 

"I hate when  _ anybody _ cooks on me, you idiot! I was in a loving, committed relationship and you took advantage of me." He was really milking this, wasn't he?

"Boohoo, Shige-chan. You don't know what true love is." Oikawa was actually sticking his tongue out. So much for being an adult.

"Well, neither do you!" 

Oikawa gasped. He sounded legitimately offended. "You take that back!" 

"Shut up!" Iwaizumi shouted before anybody else could continue the stupid argument. If it kept on, somebody was going to get burned, and he did not want to let that happen while he was the closest to the flame. 

“So,” Oikawa started, immediately reverting to his ostentatiously calm demeanor. He was good at  _ looking  _ professional, Iwaizumi would give him that. “Who are you and how did you get into my castle, old man?” 

“My name is Iwaizumi.” 

“Okay, Iwa-chan!”

“No.” 

Unfortunately, his refusal went ignored. It was not a winnable fight anyway. Luckily both the wizard and the fire remained relatively silent as he finished cooking, the only voices being that of Kunimi and Oikawa discussing the spell that had been sold earlier that morning. 

He then took the pan off the fire and walked over to the table.    
  


“Kunimi, will you get dishes and utensils?” The boy nodded and walked to the cupboard while Oikawa complained about Kunimi never listening when  _ he  _ told him to do things. 

What Kunimi came back with was a chipped plate, a bowl, and an intact plate painted with something only blind grandmothers would like. For utensils, he had a spoon and two forks, none of which were the same design or style. 

“This is all we have since Oikawa doesn’t know how to clean or buy matching kitchenware,” Kunimi explained before Iwaizumi could even open his mouth to ask.

“Not a surprise.”

“Hey!” 

Iwaizumi scooped up one egg and one slice of bacon onto each plate (or bowl in Kunimi’s case). After that, he sliced a piece of bread for each set them out on the table. Both Oikawa and Kunimi gazed at the setup with barely contained glee. 

They all dug in with enthusiasm, Iwaizumi suddenly remembering he hadn’t eaten since the previous evening. 

“Hey, Iwa-chan? Show me what’s in your pocket, will you?” Oikawa randomly blurted. 

“What? Why are you asking that? I don't have anything, anyway.”

“Just check for me?” Iwaizumi did, and to his shock, an unfamiliar piece of paper was indeed tucked in his trouser pockets. Where did it come from? The paper was surprisingly thick and of a rich cream color. This was quality paper, nothing he could get ahold of. 

He handed it to Oikawa, who unfolded it. The paper immediately caught flame and Oikawa let go. It dropped to the table where it disappeared, leaving a strange scorch mark, too intricate not to be intentional. Iwaizumi had no idea what it could mean, but it clearly held some significance. It was a crest, or insignia, or a coded message. And looking at Oikawa’s face, he could tell he was right. 

“You have quite the curse, don't you? Hmm, he really outdid himself, huh?” Oikawa’s eyes were latched to the table, and his mouth was stuck in a firm line. It was oddly somber for such an energetic person. 

“The Witch of the Waste, you mean?” 

“Yeah.” Oikawa agreed, running his hand over the burnt mark. It sparked wildly as he did, and when he removed his hand it was completely gone. 

“You’re lucky I have magic, Iwa-chan,” He suddenly tutted, any sign of his earlier gloom instantly gone. “This is my favorite table-”

“Our  _ only  _ table.” Kunimi cut in. 

“My most favorite of all of our furniture, all of which is very expensive and nice-”

“That table was half as much as most of your stupid hair junk.”

“It’s VERY nice, and I would have been VERY mad if it was ruined. But it's not, so you’re okay.”

“Yeah, alright.”

The three all finished their breakfasts in near silence. It wasn't until they had all finished eating and cleaning up (that was accompanied by lots of pushing from Iwaizumi) that Oikawa finally seemed to realize something. 

“Wait...Iwa-chan? What are you doing here?” 

He couldn't really say to break his curse since he had already made plans about that. So he said the next thing on his mind. 

“I’m here to clean up this mess of a castle, obviously. Neither of you seems to know a thing about cleanliness.”

Oikawa pouted but did not complain. He then grabbed his colorful patchwork of a coat and slung it over his shoulders. 

“I’m off. Kunimi, don’t let him destroy this place completely.” He winked, mock saluted, and left out the black door. Iwaizumi tried to look in after he vanished, to see where it led, but all he could see was an impenetrable blackness before it shut and flicked back to its usual blue. 

“Alright,” he muttered. “Fireplace, mop, upstairs, laundry,” 

His voice slowly trailed off as he went through the mental checklist. Finally done, he slid up his sleeves and set to work. 

  
  


Kunimi watched, curious, from the stairs as Iwaziumi aggressively scooped out the excessive pile of ash that had consumed the fireplace. Yahaba watched as well, sitting on the remnants of his logs. He had only one small one left, and he was nervously eyeing at it. 

“Iwaizumi, I’m going to go out,” He said. “Iwaizumi don’t leave me here.”

Iwaizumi glanced at his but didn’t reply. He did seem to start scooping a little bit faster. 

Once he had collected all of the ash into the tarp he had found, he replaced the wood on the now-clean hearth, leaving Yahaba one very happy flame demon. 

Over the next couple of hours, he had managed to scrub the table, dust out and reorganize the cupboards and all of the cooking supplies and mysterious potions inside. He also decluttered the countertops, leaving them open to human eyes for the first time in quite a while. As he began to sweep, he opened the blue door the street. Several people stared in curiosity as the huge plumes of dust billowing forth from the door. The teenager carting out large handfuls of unidentifiable junk to air out was not much help either with his only answer being a cryptic, “Yeah, there’s a witch on a rampage inside. Come back later.”

As the sun crept up to rest directly above them, Iwaziumi finished the first floor. 

Kunimi bolted into his bedroom once he saw Iwaizumi making his way up. Feeling nice, he decided to leave his room for last. Turning until the bathroom, his heart dropped. 

THis was much worse. The walls, tub, and floor were all a peculiar tie-dye muddling of color but muted as if they were very old paint jobs that had long since faded. The tub was filled with a mysterious murky gray water, and half of the floor was covered in jars. Some empty, some full, some spilling in big puddles. Half of them were of bright colors, the other half the same dreary color as the tub. 

All of them were getting  _ clean _ .

That job had taken a bit longer than he had hoped, and the sun had made plenty of progress in its journey toward the horizon. He still had plenty of daytime left though, and at least the bathroom was the sparkling white it was supposed to be. 

Luckily for them, Yahaba had been kind enough to agree to stop the castle long enough to run lines to let the laundry dry out. 

It hadn’t even occurred to Iwaizumi, but of course, it was Yahaba that controlled the castle. Before he had assumed it moved all on its own. The castle stopped just in time for him to finish washing all of the bedsheets. With Kunimi’s help, they took a long string up to one of the balconies. They tied one end of it there, and just as they were about to head out to attach the other end to the ground, Iwaizumi noticed a stick peering into his periphery. He reached up to tug at it and when he did, to his great surprise, the turnip-headed scarecrow from the other day landed next to him, bouncing along with a blank smile like always. 

“Turnip-head?” He exclaimed. “How on earth did you get up here?”

It did not reply but did bounce a few times. Kunimi poked it in the side, to no reaction. 

“Who is this weird guy?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. He has been following me since I came here.”

“Creepy.” He poked it again. 

“I hate turnips,” Iwaizumi complained.

“I like them,” Kunimi said, half to Iwaizumi, half to himself. 

When they made it back outside, there it was again, the string wrapped around its pole. It bounced out as far as the string would stretch, then rapidly bounced up and down until a few inches of its pole was buried in the soft dirt. 

“Huh.”

“That made things easier.” 

“True.”

The two of then -plus Turnip-head, but it didn’t do much- draped all of the sheets across the line. With the help, he was able to finish quite early; early enough to watch the sunset. 

It was gorgeous; far better than any he could have seen back home. Without the hills in the way, the sun had nothing to block the view of it until if fully crossed the horizon. The sight of the pink clouds and orange-streaked sky reflected across the lake, along with the colorful spring flowers swaying in the warm breeze was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

\---

Several hours later, when the laundry was dry, folded and back inside, and Kunimi and Iwaizumi were fast asleep, dozens of miles away, a dark figure flew. 

It hovered far above the ground, its inky wings vanishing into the dense clouds of smoke. The plumes billowed from the burning towns below, glowing red where wicked army bombs had been dropped. More smoke still came from the airships plummeting to the ground after the figure bulleted through them, demolishing the engines.

The air was pierced by the blaring sounds of emergency sirens, their jobs long since done. Eventually, it was stained by the occasional explosion, and underlaid with the quiet humming of still-airborne airships; it was a melody of violence. 

The figure suddenly flew away from the airship it had demolished, focusing its attack on the clusters of strange black forms. It was the sign of the secret underlying war: the brutal hidden conflict between the numerous witches and wizards employed by the warring royal armies. 

The winged figure quickly dispatched the bird-like monsters, their corpses melting and splattering like sacks of ink against its body. Once they were all gone, the figure turned, and with one last long look at the burning town below it, flew away. 

Several minutes later, inside the castle, the dial switched to black and the door swung open. From it the winged figure slowly emerged, dragging itself to the chair in front of the fire. Large blobs of black substance and quickly dissolving feathers formed a trail behind it. 

It collapsed into the seat, exhaustion oozing from its slumped body. Yahaba blinked open his eyes. 

“Hey.” He said, his voice tender and soft. 

He got no reply. The feathers continued to dissolve, revealing a very human body. Only a few feathers remained, tracing his jawline and arms. 

“What you’re doing is very dangerous, you know,” Yahaba tried again. “Eventually you really won’t come back.”

“I know.” Was all the reply he got. 

“I heard the king wants to see you.” Yahaba changed the topic. “Are you going to go?”

“I don’t think so.” He said nothing else.

Yahaba said nothing either, deepening the color of his flame, warming up the room. 

Soon enough the man was asleep, his shadow appearing vast and flickering against the dimly lit walls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading :D
> 
> As a side note, I have not seen this movie in several months. I made a note outlining the plot and scenes and such, but I don't remember everything. I'm following canon as close as I can (besides what is intentionally changed), but I may make some mistakes. Please don't get too hung up on anything. Thank you!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry about the delay :( but I'm out on break Friday so hopefully I can write more!

Morning came and to Iwaizumi’s great joy, so did the morning market. He gathered the largest basket he could find and the decent collection of money stuffed in one of the drawers. Well, if Oikawa had nothing to buy besides hair product, he felt like he had a right to buy actual, edible food. 

Kunimi was not very hard to convince to tag along, Iwaizumi figured he did not have very many chances to go out and about, in public. 

With the dial set to green, they departed. The building they exited from showed no sign of being connected to a magical moving castle. But, magic did amazing things after all. Above the door, it said: Wizard Jenkins. 

The town they were in was not the town he lived in. It was larger, and to his excitement, right on the ocean. The salty smell of the sea filled the air. Those living there were certainly sick of it, but it was a scent Iwaizumi had never smelled. Never expected to smell. 

He returned to his focus. Right. Food. Down a few streets from their front door was the market; a cheerfully bustling street lined with stalls selling fish and fruit and even jewelry. Only the wealthy could afford real jewelry where he came from. This must be what it is like to live on the side of the winning team, he thought.

He stopped at one stand. The man had a lovely selection of fish there, all lined out on the icebox. He eyed one. They were perfect. Fresh fish must be so much easier when the ocean is right there. He could admit he was a little jealous. 

As he was paying and putting away his purchases, a loud cheer erupted from the street. He and Kunimi pushed through to see the source of the noise, and they saw a huge battleship pulling into the harbor. Several sailors were lining the bridge of it, waving their hats and shouting back. 

Noticing something strange in his periphery, Iwazumi looked over. His blood seemed to freeze. Spread conspicuously throughout the crowd were the all too familiar inky black forms that could only be the Witch of the Waste’s henchmen. 

Were they looking for him? They couldn’t be. What else could the witch want from him anyway? He cursed him, did he feel like tormenting him as well? No, they were probably out for Oikawa. That's what the witch wanted, right? 

Quietly as possible, he pointed out the henchmen to Kunimi. As they started sneaking away, a strange high whistling came from the sky. Immediately after came a roaring explosion that shook the very street and sent up a geyser of water spraying all over. The pattering of water raining down on them was accompanied by panicked screaming. People, desperate to escape were shoving every which way and trampling anybody underfoot. After the water stopped the sky was filled once again, this time with countless numbers of papers. 

Some man shouted, “From up there! It came from up there!”, and they all looked up to see a disappearing end of an enemy airship returning to home base. From the other side, some soldier was yelling at anybody who grabbed the papers, denouncing them as enemy propaganda. Iwaizumi wanted to grab one, btu a glance back told him the henchman was still creeping toward him and he gave up. 

Slipping through the throes of people, they scurried back to the shop, fish still in the basket. The door closed behind them and locked with a blessed click. They both breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they were safe inside. 

Iwaizumi set down the basket onto the table. 

“Hey, Oikawa we’re back-”

An agonized screeching wail that a monkey might sound at the sight of its dead mother came from upstairs. Then, a loud thud that sounded painfully like a head hitting a wall. Seconds later, the loud thundering footsteps resumed above. At the top of the stairs appeared Oikawa. Wearing nothing but an exceedingly small towel (probably to lovingly adore his stupidly perfect legs that he probably gave himself with magic. Iwaizumi couldn’t really see him working out). His hair was now a bright orange color, and the look on his face reminded him of some deranged beast. 

“Oh dear.” Iwaizumi mumbled. 

“This is your fault!” Oikawa screamed again, clearly no closer to returning to his (more) sensible self. 

“How so?” He might as well indulge. 

“I let you into my house, I let you terrorize my fire,” He had done nothing of the sort. “-I let you move all my stuff and waste my apprentice’s time on useless tasks,” Useless? He was going to die of dust inhalation someday. “-and now, you intentionally try to sabotage me!”

“What are you even talking about?”

Oikawa sprinted down the stairs so fast it was a miracle he didn't fall and kill himself and got up right in Iwaizumi’s face. 

“Look at what you did!” He shoved small fistfuls of short hair in his face. Iwaziumi shoved it away. 

“What is your deal? It’s not my fault you're not happy with your dye job.”

Oikawa backed up and glared again. 

“You ruined my potions in the bathroom! I told you not to mess anything up and look what you did! I’m ruined! Nobody will ever respect me anymore, and It's all your fault! I’m so ugly!” he yelled, completely hysterical. 

“The bathroom was a mess. It needed to be cleaned. Plus the color isn’t that bad. I think it's fun.”

“I am not fun!” Oikawa flopped into the chair in front of the fire, making sad faces at the flame. “I’m disgusting, that's what I am.”

He bent over, burying his face in his hands. As he did, the room went dark. All along the walls, warped proportions of Oikawa’s shadow grew, looming over them all. Yahaba shrunk down, and a chill filled the room. A deep groaning, coming from deep within the castle, could be heard, just loud enough to be audible. 

Iwaizumi and Kunimi looked at each other, Iwaizumi concerned, Kunimi much more annoyed. 

“Is he dead?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“No, just throwing a temper tantrum. Last time was a few months ago, after a big breakup.”

Of course, the damn wizard couldn't have normal tantrums. He looked at Oikawa again. He seemed to have begun producing slime. 

“Uhh, is the slime normal?” Kunimi just shrugged. The groaning was getting louder and Yahaba was barely visible, tucked away in the furnace. 

“Oikawa?” Iwaiumi stepped closer. “Let’s calm down, okay? Your hair isn’t that bad. And we can always change it later.”

He tried patting him on the shoulder, but too late realized his mistake and wound up with a handful of disgustingly oozy slime. He quickly wiped it on the remaining clean spot on Oikawa’s towel. 

“Leave me be. Nothing matters if I can’t be beautiful.”

That grew a swell of rage in Iwaizumi. Only rich people with all the time in the world could care about that. They were being bombed and he was throwing a fit about his hair? Biting back angry tears, he turned and stormed out the door, barely noticing the rain, or the lack of any ache in his back he had become so well acquainted with. 

He took a deep breath, then another. One, even longer. Once he was sure he had calmed down, he rolled up his sleeves and went back in. He had cleaning to do.

In the short amount of time that he had been gone, the slime had multiplied and Yahaba was balanced atop one log and holding the remains above, looking very nervous indeed. He was yelling at Oikawa to no avail, the wizard completely unresponsive. 

“Kunimi, help me. Yahaba, start a bath.” With Kunimi’s help, they turned the chair and shoved it, with Oikawa still seated, across the floor to the stairs leaving behind them quite the trail of slime that was clinging to both of their feet. From there he slung Oikawa over his shoulder and slowly made his way up the stairs. At the sound of something falling, Iwaizumi looked back. And flushed. It was Oikawa's towel. Iwaizumi took extra care to not look down, his face embarrassingly hot. 

\---

A few hours later, the house was clean, Oikawa was clean, and Iwaizumi was much happier. After a while, he realized he almost felt a little bad and brewed some tea. He knocked twice and when no reply came, went in. 

Oikawa’s room (in which he had not been able to clean) was strange indeed, but Iwaizumi didn't have the energy to be surprised anymore. Every surface was covered in every sort of knick-knack he could imagine, even more than that even since half the stuff gave no clues as to what they actually were. At least a few were making whistling and clicking sounds. Some were moving. 

Oikawa was sleeping in his bed, which was almost as messy as everything else. After all of the drama earlier, his hair had ended up a nice shade of light brown. He wouldn’t say anything, but it looked much better than his earlier blonde look. 

Iwaizumi wondered for a moment if it was perhaps his natural color. 

He placed the tray on the open space on the bedside table. “Do you want some hot tea?” 

He didn't open his eyes, only shook his head. 

“Alright.” Iwaizumi said. “Drink it soon, while it’s still warm. He took hold of the doorknob but Oikawa’s muted voice spoke up first. 

“Don't leave,” he said. “Iwa-chan.”

“Okay.” Iwaizumi didn’t protest the nickname. 

“The witch is looking for this place,” Oikawa said. “He’ll do anything to get to me.”

“That’s right, Iwaizumi agreed. “We saw some this morning, at the port.”

  
  


“It’s my fault, that the witch is after you. He’s really after me. And I got you involved. I...I’m sorry.” He never looked over saying any of it, his eyes staring, dead, at the ceiling.    
  


When Iwaizumi didn’t reply, Oikawa continued. “I pissed him off real good and now he is punishing you. I’m just a coward, you know? I always run away. I ran away from him, and now I’m running away from my job.”

He chuckled, which was more unnerving than anything with his empty gaze. “I’ve been employed by the kings on both sides of the war and now I have been summoned. To fight my own self, I am sure. If I refuse, guards will come within days to label me as a traitor and burn my shop.”

“Why don’t you just quit, or something anyway? You have the castle, and you’re a fucking wizard. What can they do to you anyway? Go there yourself and tell them what for!” 

Oikawa froze, then shot up so fast Iwaizumi almost spilled the tea. Oikawa’s eyes were brighter when he looked at him. 

“It's you! I need you!” He grinned at Iwaizumi like he had said something worth getting excited about. “I’ll send you to the king posing as my father, and you can tell him that I’m a lazy no-good wizard that is too weak and afraid to show up! Then Master Hinata will have to give up on me.”

“Master Hinata?” 

“The wizard who taught me magic.” The thought of anybody being strong enough to both handle Oikawa and know enough magic to _teach_ him sent a chill through Iwaizumi. 

The whole idea seemed a little suspicious, but Iwaiuzmi was not going to pass up telling royalty how lazy Oikawa was. 

\----

That splendid idea is what found Iwaizumi, dressed in some nice button-up that Oikawa produced from  _ somewhere.  _ Kunimi was next to the fire, looking as suspicious as he felt. 

“So. You’re my dad, remember, Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah. You’ve only told me a dozen times.”

“Oops,” Oikawa said, not sounding bothered at all. As Iwaizumi turned the lock and started to leave, Oikawa appeared behind him. He took Iwaiuzmi’s hand and slid a ring with a green stone onto his finger. Oikawa was so close Iwaizumi could feel his breath and see the faint light in his eyes. The proximity was so close Iwaizumi was afraid his heart that was beating fat too fast could be heard by them both. When Oikawa pulled back a little, he suddenly felt a bit colder. 

“This will keep you safe and guide you back.” He said, taking Iwaizumi’s finger and sliding it on as a perfect fit. “Don’t lose it. I will be in disguise, keeping an eye on you as well. But don’t look too hard for me, I can’t get caught.”

Iwaizumi nodded and left. 

  
  


All in all, it was a good day for a walk regardless. As the city encircling the palace, it was highly populated, and the warm weather was only enticing out larger crowds. But even the trees of people on the streets were nothing to the cramped chaos of his own hometown. The stones on the road were far smoother and he didn’t trip once. The cane Oikawa had given him was not hurting either. The walk was reminding him he was, in fact, still old. But getting around had become easier since his first trip up. 

If he had been given the chance to examine himself in a mirror in the last couple of days he probably would have realized that while he was most certainly still old, he was also more of a grandfather than a great-grandfather. But considering who he was, the thought hadn't even occurred to him. Rather, he simply thought he was continuing to get stronger. 

Oikawa was not nearly focused enough to notice. If Kunimi noticed, he didn't care enough to say anything. 

So he continued to walk, completely unaware of his gradual return to the body he used to have. 

As he walked, he looked around as inconspicuous as possible. On the roof above him a few crows perched. Could one of them be Oikawa? He quickly decided against it. The crow was said to be a spy for the royal court. Oikawa would never choose to associate with that rumor. 

Next, he saw a pigeon, perched atop a large statue in the middle of the street. Could that be? No, he would definitely choose something far more dramatic. 

The pigeon suddenly flew away in a flurry as a tour-craft flew above, occupied by a young woman giggling at the handsome man piloting it. Now, that could be him. 

Much to his disdain, he had only just passed the gates of the royal town’s perimeter. All that he had walked already was just the town outside? 

Plodding up next to him, a cat appeared. Unlike a normal cat, it remained right next to him, keeping his pace, and not scampering away when he looked at it. It might be a little plain but... Iwaizumi decided it was most likely Oikawa. But heeding his wishes, he ignored it, pretending he had not even noticed it. Inside his head, he was wishing Oikawa had become something a bit more useful but berated himself for being so hopeful. 

Sometime later he reached the city square, the last distance he had to walk before he reached the expansive staircase leading to the palace. 

As if sensing his walk so far had been too pleasant and needed a little spicing up, the last person he wanted to see appeared. 

“Well, hello,” The Witch of the Waste cooed. “Lovely running into you here. What a coincidence that we both have an appointment with the king on the same day, is it not?”

Like last time, he was floating a few feet off the ground, his legs tucked under him comfortably, like he was being carried on some absurdly regal seat. 

Iwaizumi didn’t say a word to him. 

“Are you mad at me, is that why you’re ignoring me?”

Iwaizumi ignored him again and tried to walk faster. But the Witch only sped up along with him, so he decided it was only a waste of time. 

“Thank you for delivering my note to him, by the way. Did he like it? What did he say?” 

More silence. 

“You’re clearly angry. How about we just start over. Hi. My name is Kuroo, I’m the Witch of the Waste. Nice to meet you. What brings you to the palace?”

“I’m looking for a job. That idiot wizard has me turned into his maid and I won't take it.”

“Oh ho. Sounds like him.” He crooned. “I happen to be here on invitation. The fool Hinata seemed to finally have realized he needs me.”

Why did he think Iwaizumi cared? As curtly as possible, he asked, “Can you lift my curse?”

The Witch pouted. “So aggressive. But to answer, no. I can only cast spells, I never bothered to care about removing them.” 

“Then leave me alone.” Kuroo pouted and sped off. Or floated off. Whatever. Iwaizumi followed behind, seething. 

To his curiosity, when he reached the first archway leading up to the vast stairs of the palace, Kuroo began wobbling. He careened back and forth for a few feet, before ultimately crashing into the ground. 

“What the hell!” He shouted, standing up. He looked quite unbalanced. He probably didn't regularly walk. Iwaizumi sighed, shaking his head. That's what happens when people don't work out. 

One of the guards liming the steps said, ”Sorry sir! There is no magic permitted past this point.”

He pointed at the glowing figure in the shape of a person on the ground to make his point. 

Kuroo fumed. “If I am late because of this I will curse you so bad-”

“I am sorry sir, but the spell was placed by the king. If you have an issue with it, you can take it up with the king. Good day sir.”

Iwaizumi liked that guard. 

Despite Kuroo’s head start, Iwaizumi was catching up rather quickly. But once he began his way up the steps, he heard a demanding  _ mrow!  _ From behind him. There stood Oikawa, in all his catty glory. 

Iwaizumi groaned. Oikawa was so dead. But regardless, he still went down the steps and picked up the cat. It was far heavier than it had any sort of right to be. He resumed his way up the stairs, slowed down a little by the cat and his elderly body, but not considerably. He was soon caught up to the witch and they lumbered up the steps together, wheezing in tandem. 

“You know, you didn’t curse me very well. I’m old and much faster than you. We can fight at the top of the stairs if you would like.” Iwaizumi shouted down. He couldn't see his face but could hear Kuroo snarl.

“The moment we leave this damn place I am going to curse you so hard you wish you were dead.”

“Good luck with that.” Iwaizumi was almost grinning. Life was far more fun when he wasn't trying to be nice! “If you can make it up at all. DOn’t you think you should just give up?”

The Witch snarled. “I haven’t been allowed herein years! I’ll be damned if I don't get my meeting with the King!”

“Have it your way. I’m not helping.”

To his disappointment, the farther up the stairs they went the faster Kuroo got. Iwaizumi still was ahead, but when they reached the crest of the steps, Iwaizumi had only panted a few deep breaths when the Witch caught up, panting just as much as he was. 

They glowered at each other. Iwaizumi then broke eye contact and went through the huge doors. He hadn’t bothered to take his time and look, but if he had, he surely would have admired the sheer size of the doors, and the complex patterns detailing the wood. 

The room they entered was large, each wall elegantly decorated with greens and golds and deep purples. When they passed the threshold, one of the man guards lining the entrance announced their presence with a booming, “Mister Pendragon and the Witch of the Waste!”

One guard led them into a large circular room, just and fancy as the last, huge candle racks lining the entire room, creating a moody but pleasant light.

There was one chair visible in the middle of the room, which Kuroo made a beeline for. Howl, who had before just followed at his side, went the opposite direction, zooming through a tucked-away hallway that he hadn’t even noticed before.

Iwaizumi hissed at him to come back but when it was apparent the cat had no intention of listening, He looked back once more to be sure the witch wasn’t looking and followed after. 

Immediately after entering the hall, he discovered it to be a dead end. Before he could wonder where on earth Howl had vanished to, one wall slid away to reveal itself as an elevator. A small girl in uniform with bright orange hair stood inside. 

“Right this way sir!” She said. Iwaizumi reluctantly went inside. 

\---

Back in the waiting room, the seemingly decorative curtains lining the circular walls began to draw upwards. The witch glanced up in interest. When they were up far enough, they were revealed to be enormous light bulbs, around six or seven of them all around. 

In another room, one guard flipped a large switch and the lightbulbs began to glow. The witch groaned and covered his eyes. They continued to become brighter and brighter. The shadows all around him from the lights peeled themselves off the ground in the shape of a ring of people. They spun around him as the Witch began groaning in pain, shouting out. 

\---

After exiting the elevator, Iwaizumi followed the girl down another hallway. This one opened up into a vast interior garden filled with strange plants and quiet chirping of unseen birds.

The floor was lined with pale tiles that reflected the sunlight streaming from the walls and skyscraping ceiling, all of which were made of glass. In the middle of the room there was an open space, inhabited only by a large chair with somebody sitting in it. The girl went over to the chair, bowed and made her exit somewhere to the left. 

“I see Howl’s father has come to see me.” A young voice said. 

“Yes,” Iwaizumi said, “I am Pendragon.” 

He walked over to the chair and stood politely in front of it.

Next to the chair sat Howl, lounging lazily as ever underneath a small desk next to the chair. Iwaizumi glared at him but got no reaction. Resting on the chair was a young man with hair as bright orange as the little girl from the elevator. Or so he seemed, at least. But Iwaizumi knew better.

Before he left, Howl had told him about who he could expect to be speaking to. In front of him was the second-in-hand to the king and royal sorcerer, Wizard Hinata. There was a lot of power within that young form, and he was surely older than he appeared. 

“Welcome.” He said. “Have a seat. You must be tired.”

He gestured in front of him. Where it had most certainly not been there before, a chair was now across from his seat. He really didn't have a choice, did he?

So, Iwaizumi made his way over and sat down in the chair. That seemed to please Hinata. From somewhere in the rafters a crow appeared and flew down to perch on the back of Hinata’s chair. He absentmindedly reached back to pet it. 

“I see you got my messenger.” He said, gesturing at the cat. Iwaizumi stiffened. The cat...was, not Oikawa. Oh. Oh fuck. 

“The cat?” He squeaked out. 

“Oh yes,” Hinata said. “This is Kenma. He is a wonderful guide, as I am sure you have seen. Now. Let us get down to business, shall we? I hear you are the father of the Wizard Oikawa?”

“Uh, that’s right.”

“What brings his elderly father here in place of him, when he had been explicitly requested?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

“That would be because he is a lazy, scaredy-cat fool who can’t even stand up to his old man. He’s such a coward I couldn’t drag him here by the scruff of his neck.” 

Iwaizumi wouldn’t admit it, but a start of shame bubbled in him. He was realizing he didn't really mean it. Hinata didn’t notice though. Rather, he laughed. 

“I can believe it. He has always been a coward.” His face darkened. “A heartless coward. He has no soul, and cannot care about anything. You’ve let your son become a monster right under your own eyes.”

“Now listen here.” Iwaizumi started before he even thought about what he was doing with his mouth. “Oikawa is a good man. He is a coward, that is true, but he is far from heartless. He is passionate, and he cares. He might seem cold, but he is just hiding his heart out of fear! He is an incredibly kind person, and you are a fool for refusing to see it.”

Iwaizumi did not notice the changes that he went through as he said this. He did not notice his voice becoming less gruff, and his posture straightening. He didn't notice himself growing young again, even if for only a moment. 

But Hinata did. 

“Are you in love with him?” He asked with a coy smile. 

Iwaizumi froze and in an instant aged again, growing older than he had even been in days. His mind was running, looping Hinata’s words over and over again in an absurd shock, hoping to think of a response. He didn't have to, however, because the loud buzzing roar of an aircraft came out from the glass wall to their right. 

Moments later the craft landed, and a young man departed, entering the room from the large glass walls built into the window. He tipped his hat, then removed it and bowed when he approached Hinata. He looked like he was going to say something when another man entered from the left. 

He noticed first the man standing, completely identical to him. 

He looked over at Hinata. “That's...a good double.” 

“Thank you, Kageyama.” Hinata smiled.

Kageyama nodded, and left. 

The room was silent, as they all waited for another to react, each looking at another awkwardly. Hinata was the first to respond in the end, and he lifted his staff, pointing it at Kageyama’s double’s chest. 

“So,” Hinata crowed. “Decided to show yourself, coward?” 

The double -who was indeed the real Oikawa- pouted like he had been caught in something far less significant, like a child’s game of hide-and-seek. He subtly, which is to say not in the least, inched closer to Iwaizumi and reached his arm out to drape protectively over Iwaizumi’s shoulder. 

Hinata didn’t seem bothered by this. Instead, his expression was pleased. He tightened his grip on his staff, then raised it and slammed it back down. 

A deep humming noise resounded, holding far longer than an echo should, before being smothered by the far louder roar of water rushing in from all sides. Iwaizumi flinched, expecting to be doused, but nothing happened. He peeked his eyes open. The water was still there, yet it only swirled around them harmlessly. 

The second he relaxed, the water all fell away, and the low hum he had become almost used to vanished as well. Standing on nothing, they hovered in a field of stars. The only thing holding Iwaizumi up was Oikawa’s arm around him. 

He caught movement in the corner of his eye, and turned to look. From all around them, a handful of stars were coming toward them, shifting into a circle as they did. 

And then the stars started to change. They stretched outwards, like a shadow. Once they were all out, into the relative shape of an unevenly formed human, they tilted upwards. LIke this, they seemed to be a group of children encircling them, all holding hands. They began to spin and chant something in an unknown tongue. 

Iwaizumi looked up at Oikawa, hoping he would know what was happening, but something was wrong. 

Oikawa’s eyes were wide with fear. 

Without warning, he burst into feathers. The arm around him shifted and grew, now the massive wing of a crow. Around his face pin feathers broke through as well. 

He reared back. It must be painful. 

The chanting was getting louder. 

Then, directly in front of them, Hinata appeared, spear raised and poised, pointed end aligned exactly with Oikawa’ heart. 

He drew back his arm, Iwaizumi shouted, and Oikawa shot upward, into the endless sky...and through the glass roof above, sending millions of shards down below. 

Iwaizumi squinted and turned away from the glare of the sun, bright and unblocked above them. 

Then, as suddenly as they had formed, the feathers drew back. He shrunk back down to his true height, and his arms became arms again. And they started to plummet. 

He had enough time to register that they were, indeed, falling, when his back landed on something hard and much too far up to be the ground. He sat up, rubbing at his back, and saw that they had landed on an aircraft. 

Manned by none other than the Witch of the Waste, Hinata’s cat coiled around his shoulder. 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Oikawa complained behind him, voicing Iwaizumi’s exact thoughts. 

Kuroo pouted. “I save you and this is what I get? Next time I’ll watch you become pancakes. If you let me tag along you can use this to get back home. That prissy wizard took my powers and I am significantly flightless.”

He pointed behind them. When Iwaizuni looked, his stomach dropped. Several more aircraft were right on their tail, all manned by magically-summoned royal soldiers. 

“I’d take my offer, by the way. I can’t really see how else you're going to get home.”

Iwaizumi hated to help the Witch of the Waste who wouldn’t and now, can’t erase his curse, but he also didn't feel like dying. So he groaned, and with as much contempt and disinterest as possible, muttered “Fine.”

Oikawa touched his shoulder. “Can I leave you with him? I have to get these guys off our trail.”

Iwaizumi was ready to say ‘absolutely not’, but OIakwa was gone before he could. “How the hell am I supposed to get back without your directions, asshole?” He shouted, at the air around him. Oikawa did not reply. 

He looked around nervously. He had no idea where they should be heading. Were they going in the completely wrong direction. He twisted the ring OIkawa had given him, and a beam of light burst from it so suddenly he nearly fell backwards in shock. 

The green light shone in a perfectly straight line, at a 45-degree angle to their right. 

“Go right!” He shouted at Kuroo. Kuroo looked at him, suspicious, but complied.

They darted speedily through the air. Every once in a while Kuroo would dive sharply down, or weave tightly between some trees to get remaining soldiers off their trail, either nearly knocking Iwaizumi off or giving him a heart attack every time. 

On one look around a crowd of trees Kuroo caught the wing on a branch. Damaged but no ripped off, it spiraled them a bit before he was able to correct it. They were able to fly, mostly. The engine was spitting some very dark smoke, and they kept pitching left. But they were airborne, for the time.

A few minutes later the castle came into view. As they got closer, Iwaizumi remembered the most important part of flying: landing. 

The castle (or was it Yahaba?) solved that issue for them. As they zoomed closer, the opening at the front that had looked somewhat like a mouth the first time Iwaizumi saw it gaped open. It couldn't have been clearer, so they pitched down, right into its maw. 

It was not the smoothest landing. 

When Iwaizumi sat up, blinking away spots and pushing rubble off of him, he could see the damage their hectic landing had caused. They had landed in the mouth just fine. And then kept going, and smashed right through the wall into the open space of the castle.

The boring back wall definitely was more exciting as a pile of bricks with a crumpled aircraft poking through it. 

He could hear Yahaba whining from the hearth. 

Kunimi was perched on the stairs, peering down at the wreckage in disbelief. He quickly snapped out of it though, and ran over to help him out. When he saw who else was buried in there with him, he moved himself behind Iwaizumi, muttering, "You know who that is, right?" 

"Yes, I do." 

"Then why the hell did you let him in the castle?" 

They looked over at him squirming awkwardly in the rubble.

"It's fine, he doesn't have powers any more." 

Kunimi didn't look convinced, and he very pointedly refused to help the struggling witch and his stowaway cat, but he dropped the issue. 

Iwaizumi helped him out, and with a few aggressive glares, convinced both men to help him clear out the rubble. 

It didn't take long at all, and by the time the sun was out of sight, the wall was all cleared out and the crumpled aircraft was tugged free. To keep out the wind, at least temporarily, he strung up an old blanket in front of the hole. 

Within minutes both men slunk away, Kunimi to his room and Kuroo with Kenma  _ somewhere _ . 

Oikawa wasn't back yet. Iwaizumi looked out the window like it wasn't pitch black out. 

He didn't know why he was so disappointed. Having nothing else to do, he tucked himself into the bed he had crafted in the closet and immediately went to sleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a legally enforced stay-at-home to find time to write. Or so I thought.   
I've been here like 3 weeks and I've slept through most of it  
help
> 
> This chapter is really short, but I wanted this scene as it's own chapter so,,,

Several hours later, back in the castle up in the hills, Oikawa had returned, his form as hulking and steeped in darkness as his own shadow.. 

“Hey, Oikawa?” Yahaba tried to start, but went silent. 

He didn't bother to keep talking. He wasn't going to get an answer. 

Instinctually, Yahaba drew back into his hearth as Oikawa drew near. His movements were incredibly slow, as if he was forcing himself to drag along an immense weight with him. Yahaba could barely look at his master, fear glueing his gaze to an inconspicuous spot on the floor. From there, he could see the trail of charcoal feathers and inky fluid accumulating behind Oikawa.

One drop of the thick, ink-like pitch splattered mere inches from his logs. 

OIkawa continued past him, past Iwaizumi curled up on a mattress on the floor, and up the stairs toward his room, taking each creaking step painfully slowly. 

When he entered his room, the door slammed closed behind him. At the echoing thud, Iwaizumi blinked his eyes open. He peered around in the dim firelight. searching around for the source of the sound. Eventually, his gaze landed on a pitch-black feather within arm’s reach. He grabbed it, but the second his fingers brushed it it began to crumble. Within hardly a second, it was reduced to ash.

A nervous weight settled itself in Iwaizumi’s stomach. Scooping up the candle by his bed, stopping only to relight it on a mute Yahaba, he made his way to the stairs, avoiding puddles of sludge the whole way. When he held out his light to look more carefully at the stuff, he noticed how it was in the shape of a bird’s foot, but much larger than the foot of any bird he knew. 

So preoccupied with the growing unease over Oikawa’s condition, Iwaizumi didn't realize the hand holding his candle had the smooth, unblemished skin of a much, much younger man. 

He crept up the stairs, the faint creak of his footsteps the only sound to be heard in the whole castle. The hallway leading to Oikawa’s room seemed to get longer every step he took, like he would walk forever and never reach it. 

It wasn't, but it still took longer than he remembered to reach the door. He took the handle and almost let go in shock. It was ice cold.

Opening the door, Iwaizumi was met with a blast of wind to his face, nearly extinguishing his candle. 

Cupping his free hand around the delicate light, he made his way forward. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door slammed behind him. Even more unsettling than the door itself closing was the bone-chilling silence that immediately fell. Despite the fact that the rest of the castle was only a door away, he felt horribly, horribly alone. 

The creaking and groaning of the house, Yahaba’s crackling blaze and Kunimi’s intermittent pattering footsteps had become so familiar to Iwaizumi, that their absence was far more startling. 

The soft soil ground muffled his footsteps, already muted from his slippers. 

He called out to Oikawa, flinching at how loud the sound was, and how long the echo carried. 

He received no response. Until a heavy pause later, when he caught a low, aching groan. It was no sound a human voice could make. Before and after it, he caught the sound of heavy, ragged breathing too. 

It sunk as deep into his stomach as the haunting drone of airship engines. The sound was too living to be an engine, but he couldn't help but feel the same fear. 

There was no going back, was there? 

The somber cave was impossible to mistake for Oikawa’s bedroom, messy as it was, but the endless collection of garbage and unexplainable gadgets was indistinguishable from the chaos of the real bedroom. The floor was equally littered, countless masks and colorful decorations embedded in the earth.

Some things along the wall were recognizable, though. A teddy bear stained with the mud oozing from every surface of the cave caught his gaze for a few seconds. He kept walking down the tunnel, vaguely aware that the walls were gradually closing in on him. 

The junk stuffing the walls were changing for sure now, the last of the creepy ornaments and magical contraptions disappearing into the dark behind him. The darkness ahead of him was as deep and impenetrable as the darkness creeping up behind him, settling a weight of wrongness onto his shoulders. 

Another sudden freezing draft blew through the cavern, nearly extinguishing the candle. Iwaizumi flicked his attention away from the walls to the path ahead of him, suddenly realizing that the path was split. 

An infinite darkness stretched out in both directions without a hint to show which way would lead to Oikawa. 

He called again, caught off guard again at the unexpected volume of his voice. And then that sound came again, louder this time. It came from the left path, for sure. Was it just him, or did it sound pained? He could hear the breaths clearly then, too labored to be any good.

Either way, he picked up his pace, widening his strides just a bit. 

The walls were certainly far barer, the strange trinkets becoming farther and fewer between. Instead, they were replaced with inky feathers. They formed a sparse trail of sorts, only growing in number with each step Iwaizumi took. 

“Oikawa?” He whispered. This time, no response came. At all. 

He started running then, his unease creeping across his skin, growing into an undeniable fear. 

All of a sudden, one of his steps landed with a splash, and he froze so fast he nearly tripped. Crouching down, he noticed the black staining his pale slipper. When he shined his candle over the puddle, the light reflected dully in the black pitch. There was so much. Looking ahead, there was even more. 

And there, on the very edge of his light’s range, there was something. Large. Dark. Unidentifiable. Did he take the wrong turn?

Iwaizumi crept forward, revealing what seemed to be a vast pile of feathers. Until it shifted. Just a twitch. 

His muscles strained to turn back, to bolt away. But he didn't. He couldn't.   
“Is that you, Oikawa?” He asked again. 

The pile of feathers moved again, shifting up into what may have been a sitting post, now a whole meter above his head. A pair of massive talons emerged, like those of a monstrous eagle. And peeking out from the middle were many, many teeth, attached to a glimpse of a face that was not human. 

At this range, the rumbling groan was far more like a roar. Iwaizumi couldn't help but to take a step back, but moved forward two steps until he was within arm’s reach. 

Oikawa didn't seem to recoil when Iwaizumi reached out to him, so he cautiously rested one hand in the feathers. It immediately sunk down into the feathery mass, which was surprisingly soft. 

He called out again, his tone growing desperate. Why the hell was his room like this? Why the hell was he like this? Whatever happened to bring him home so different and wrong? 

“Please, talk to me Oikawa!” Nothing. 

“I’m trying to help, goddamnit! Just tell me how to help!”

The jaw of Oikawa’s face shifted, and he let out another guttural growl. Then another one that he could just barely glean words from. 

“Go...away…” It was thick and rumbled like an earthquake. 

“No. Please, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Are you in pain? You don't get to hide away looking like this and expect me to just leave without doing nothing!” 

He growled again, but softer. Iwaizumi couldn't make out any words. The breathing, the wheezing painful breathing didn’t stop.

“Just let me help. You can’t do everything all by yourself.”

That, finally, caught Oikawa’s attention. “How do you expect to break my curse when you can’t even break your own?”

“I can if you help me, just don't shut me out! Because I-” His voice trailed off. He what? What was he going to say? Was that aching in his chest -his heart perhaps- more than just concern for a friend, a necessary companion? 

“You have no idea what you want.” Oikawa growled. 

Without a chance of stopping him, Oikawa rushed past him, down the tunnel. The gust of air came again, finally plunging everything into darkness. 

The last thing Iwaizumi saw was his own hand, and the wrinkles on it, far more garish than they had been in months. 

And then, he once again woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am never writing a long fic ever again i can't do this

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping for weekly updates, but we'll see that goes :)
> 
> Also, for plot's sake, Iwaizumi and Mattsun and brothers. They look pretty similar and its a small plot element anyways, so don't worry too much about it


End file.
